


The names are fake, but the feelings are real

by Mar_Bloomswood



Category: Criminal Minds (US TV)
Genre: Bad Decisions, Drug Use, F/F, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Growing Up, Inappropriate Behavior, M/M, Mental Health Issues, Past Drug Use, Past Violence, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-13
Updated: 2021-02-13
Packaged: 2021-03-17 22:48:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 9,096
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29233311
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mar_Bloomswood/pseuds/Mar_Bloomswood
Summary: Okay. This is the story. I was just trying to begin a new life and finish my studies. I did not want to tangle myself in the schemes of psychopaths or befriend the FBI. I didn't need the feds snooping in my past.Honestly. The last thing in my mind, coming to the states, was falling in love. But I guess it is something you can't control. It's my fault really. I am sure the guy didn't look for my attention. Only me falls for someone that is so adamant in making me hate his guts. But he makes it hard with his ramblings and book recommendations.You know the worst part? I would be happy having him as a friend. But I am not sure I can have that now. Too many choices had entangled our lives, but my bad ones were surely putting him far apart.
Kudos: 1





	1. Prologue

The engines stopped, the landing pretty smooth. The flight had close to no turbulence, but my heart was still racing anyway. I could feel it beating in my throat. Was I worried about the flight or coming to a new country? Running from the last one was surely it. It wasn’t new, me running. But I had never put myself this far. I had never needed to.

It was not the first time I visited the US, not even the first time I lived here. But now it was definitive. At least until my brother finished high school. He was on his way and would begin the next semester at St John’s HS. For the time being, I had to transform the place our dad got for us in a home. All by myself in an entirely new city and beginning my residency the next day. That last one was my fault, to be honest. I had stayed at home as long as I could possibly do.

I had always dreamed of starting over and becoming someone different. Nonetheless, I was not happy to be here. I was coerced.

Coming to another country that felt more like another world. And I was barely a graduate. Now I was beginning to work in a competitive environment like USA hospitals. I will make myself a clown, I am not remotely prepared. This was not exactly my first job. But I had literally blown up my last one, so I was repressing the memory. I could think of it without my eyes watering.

I was not ready to acknowledge the memories. Maybe if the nightmares go first… I tried something I found on Tumblr, looking to take my mind from dangerous places.

_What if I don’t suck? Why if I am a success?_

Positive thinking felt fake. Good. I was here somehow. Fake it until you make it, I guess. I had to have done something right to get to where I am - even if I don’t really understand how. My mom believed in me, she had said so taking me to the airpot. We had left my brother at home, she wanted to talk to me. Talking to my mother was hard, so much feelings between us. But we had almost lost each other, so that all didn't matter. And now we were saying goodbye for a long time.

She asked me for something… Stop trusting the wrong people. One had brought me here. Whenever my mom suggested changes to my personality, etiquette or anything about me I could be a little bit sensitive. This time I had to let her talk. She was right. All this came from the worried place I had put us in. All the family was fleeing the country. She was happy too, about me getting to perfect my English and becoming a great doctor. She believed in me.

_America was crazy. But…_

_What if everything worked out?_

A horrible thought popped up in my mind. I couldn’t fight it. It was my own mind after all. And brought the question:

_Was it in me what was needed to be happy?_

I was having an extraordinary opportunity here, whatever my problems with the change in countries were. I couldn’t just pick up every detail that made me uncomfortable and not happy with that, turning good ones into twisted fears. 

_Stop. Breathe._

Worst case scenario you fail. You star over. You have done it before. Best case scenario: What if everything works out?

 _It will_. I repeated it in my head.   
It will work out.


	2. The FBI gives me a ride home

Growing up, we had this place. It had merely one story and no garden, but an indoor patio. The patio mixed with the kitchen area, and our refrigerator was almost the same size as a portable cooler. It was a small house and some parts were still brick. That was in a small, middle-class Latin American town. We had to sell it. Those were hard times: mom didn’t have her degree yet, my dad was not in the picture and my grandmother had just died. Now it felt like I had it all and still something was always missing.

This place was not a house, but felt huge. I was used to small apartments. Now, all this extra space had only me. Two rooms were empty: Tiago’s and one for guests -or my dad-. The living room and dining table space had no furniture. I hated empty. My room was the only one furnished. The mattress was over two wide piles of wood pallets. Leaving some uncover space, but taking almost all the room. Cleaning up might be a problem.

The bed-frame is made of more wood pallets, broad enough to put some piles of books over it. Also fit a white alarm clock, a Cactus and a Crassula in white pots. The spaces between the wood pallets decorated with strings of lights. The mattress was covered with a heavy white comforter and a brown tufted blanket. On the right side I had put a crate as a DIY bedside table. It was always full with coffee cups, glasses, more books and my lamp. Next to it a full length mirror and a Chinese evergreen. To the other side of the bed a Kentia palm.

The plant occupied about all the space left between the bed and the wall, no space for another bedside table. That wall had a pair of wood colored shelves with the books left. And some pictures: My mom with me the day I graduated from High School. Another with my dad, my brother and grandmother on a dad's work thing. The last one was my uncle, Tiago and me at the auditorium in a ceremony where I had got my degree. Taking it all, everything looked exactly like a dream. Or a Pinterest board.

However, out of my room there wasn’t even a sofa. It felt hollow and sad. I only left like leaving my room for the bathroom or the kitchen. At the time being, I was studying over a lap cardboard folding table and taking breakfast directly on the counter. This place has a tiny open room, I was eager to make flourish into a studio/library. There were some wall to wall shelves, I had already packed with my nonfiction books. Medicine related, biographies and many notes from college. I had saved most of the notebooks since the third semester and had a backup on my hard drive. All my stationary made it too. I was going to put more shelves, the space needs it. 

Hoodies -already folded in the built in closet-, books -the fiction ones- and collection of markers were the things I could not leave behind. I brought some family photo albums, but they were new and half empty. It was a surprise my mom even gave me the idea: took my favorite photos from her albums to remember our life in Colombia. It felt definitive and ominous, as I have my cloud full of memories of anything that reminds me of my life in Colombia. She had already bought a new photo album for me. The vacant space was supposed to be filled with new moments here; I was instructed to document Tiago’s life. At that point we were both crying.

I knew my baby brother was mom’s favorite, she usually denies it but other times not. Nonetheless, I didn’t feel jealousy. I had spent a lot of time wronging our relationship because of my jealousy of her. Being a working mom, I resented her not having time with me growing up. Now we were going to be a continent apart. With Tiago leaving the nest soon, she had finally retired and planned to visit her sister in Spain. Her stay there indefinitely, as ours here.

I fidget looking for something to do. Today I had gotten up extra early, afraid of being late again. Now I had plenty of time on my hands before going to work. Last time I overslept, I got to the hospital crying and panicking. Nothing serious happened, thanks God. But my mind created enough scenarios for me to freak out. I had to spend a while in the bathroom, making sure to cover the puffy eyes and swollen face.

This past month I barely had time to think, less to be at home at all. My days start before the sun rises and end at 19:00, if I am lucky. And nothing extraordinary is happening: like Flu season, car accidents and school food poisonings. The latter was more frequent I would have believed. Acute diarrhea diseases filled my endless nights. As every first-year resident, we had the most number of 48-hour shifts. My share for the month, my first month, was done tonight. Despite all my fears I survived. I had been right about some, though. I could shake the feeling my fellow residents didn’t like me much. I wasn’t sure about my attending, yet. Thankfully, my relationship with the nurses was okay, here and at Fort Belvoir -where I worked every other day of the week.

I would get off tomorrow and was hoping to use the time to go furniture shopping with my dad. His room and my brother’s were only space. I hoped we finished adapting the place before Tiago got here. I wanted the place to feel more like a home for me too. My dad had asked me many times how was I feeling and how was the change going. I lied and said it was okay. Most of the time it was. If I kept busy I barely noticed the absence of all my family.

Besides the usual differences with upper-year residents and some trouble with the language, I would call it a good first month. I could come off as too serious or isolated. I just couldn’t start a conversation with almost anyone without a reason. So I seek my colleagues only for work related things. There was a guy that called me a bitch. Another said I was an interested person. If I could do the work without them, I would. Not all was bad blood. I had hit it off withAmy and Taylor, first years like me. We shared notes and helped each other when there was too much to study. I loved to hear them study. They knew it all. The reason the attending loved them, especially Amy. Sadly, I have never been of those students that always knew the answer and as a resident I was no different. Most days it was taking a lot of energy just to keep up.

At least my rounds were getting better. The attending I had assigned were comfortable with my therapeutic management. But time to study is limited. More times that I liked I don't know the answer. Seeing sick kids every day was draining emotionally on top of physical. Between sleeping and studying, I had a winner. Sleep was needed to get energy. Energy was needed to function at work. And I would not sacrifice my mental health for the sake of productivity. I couldn’t do it more than I already was.

What I liked about Amy and Taylor was that they were welcoming. Amy was super focused, but not arrogant or envious. She always had a hand for a colleague in need, anyone in need.And her personality was so easy going that she seemed friends with everyone. Taylor was not as social. She felt more reserved than Amy, and looked as distressed to interact with new people as I was. Being friends with Amy brings a lot of people to say hello to. Taylor had always a kind word, even for the assholes. The way she takes care of the details Amy forgets, like eating or keeping hydrated. The way all the patients opened up to her, even the difficult family members.

But the best of them, besides their lovely and rich personalities, was this: they let me be. I could come some day with deep dark circles under my eyes and a tight ponytail to hide my dirty hair, my aura gloomy and unapproachable. I could come well dressed, full make up and bitchy attitude the next day. No one could shut me up some days, others I would not talk. And in between all my humor changes they would still have lunch with me in the cafeteria. Or offer to review the indications to use a macrolide, the adapting process of the newborns or just chatting about the weirdest cases during the week. I wanted to invite them over for coffee or lunch. First, I needed a dining table.

The day stretched more than I preferred. But finally, the sun was setting and the hospital was getting quiet. Except for the emergency room, of course. The pediatric emergency room is packed as always. On the basement level one was a quiet consulting room where I took a 30-minute nap. I washed my face ready to deal with the pained children and worried mothers. And there were a lot.

My cell phone marked 23:50 when I finished the ninth entry. I had checked a fever without further apparent symptoms. A couple of respiratory infections and many gastrointestinal infections. The GI infection with diarrhea, emesis, and dehydration. One baby had had several seizures and was being hospitalized on the pediatric neurology floor. Taylor had sped up the process. She was assigned to the neurology department this month, as I was in Neonatology and Amy in the infectious disease department. This was a first level trauma hospital so at 01:00 AM two brothers were admitted alongside her teenage mother after almost fatal car crash. I am exhausted.

At some point in the next hour, the patients stopped coming. I opened my laptop to finish the summary of the night cases. As the resident in charge I need to recap patients admitted, discharged and any change in any of them through the night. I'll share it in the morning rounds with the resident and attending that would relieve me.

The sun was rising when I woke up. The intern was shaking my arm to get my attention. His glare told me he had no luck wake me up another way. The computers were empty, the chairs dispersed in the corner where our station was. I jerked up, my body screaming in pain for the posture I had fallen asleep. Crunched in an office chair with my head rested over crossed arms against the desk table. I didn’t know when I had fallen asleep. At 3:00 am the emergency room flooded with patients again. The last thing I remember is finishing my report of those new cases on my laptop.

“The mother of the gastrointestinal infection wants to talk to you, doctor Martinez”

My sleepy eyes fixated on him. I felt his judgment while I brushed my hair with my hands trying to look presentable. I was expecting more information, we had examined at least five kids with gastrointestinal symptoms through the night. Who preferred to call a kid by his diagnostic than his name? “The last one, the blonde whiny boy”.

I rolled my eyes. The boy wasn’t whining, only scared. I remember the hard time I had coming to hospitals as a child. If this guy had met me when I was six, how would he call me? The screaming brunette girl? I threw some incredible tantrums.

Getting up was easier than expected. A quick trip to the bathroom to wash my face and adjust my ponytail, and I was on course to the pediatric observing room beds. I looked my cell phone for the medical record and the names of the boy and mother. Google Drive was the most useful app of them all.

Jenifer Jareau's blonde hair was messy. Her eyes irritated, like she hadn’t closed an eye all night. The boy curled up between her arms, fast asleep. When I began to talk to her mother, Henry stirs a little but don’t wake up. She asks me how much more time have they to wait. I look at Henry’s labs and nothing looks out of normal. His white blood cell counting didn’t show infection and electrolytes seemed fine. The boy is still pale and his mother tells me the fever continued. His voice calls a name in his sleep.

“It's his baby brother. He missed Goodnight time. Henry loves to put him to sleep.”

My heart wrinkled in my chest at her words. I feel identified, being a big sister myself. My brother was way past bedtime kisses. Nonetheless, not being able to hear is screaming to the PC in his room next to mine made me sad. He was always coming to show me some meme on his phone we both relate to. Between my schedule and the time difference, it was pretty hard to talk to him. Even by cell phone. I sigh.

Henry doesn’t seem dehydrated. Jenifer shows me proudly the empty Pedialyte bottle. It was customary to keep an eye on children at risk of dehydration in the observing room. There were some hours left for Henry before being cleared and send home. Although apart from the fever, there was no reason to keep him here.

Keeping my voice down I speak, “I don’t see a reason to keep you both waiting. He may catch something here anyway, and we wouldn’t his little brother to get sick too”. I crunch down to examine the boy and keep talking. “I will give you a prescription for some analgesics to control the fever. And give you my number. If something changes or he gets worse, you call me”.

I sent the intern, I think his name is Gabriel, to give them the red flags. If any appeared they needed to come back to the emergency room. Meanwhile, I print the prescription. I told them they could go. Jennifer profusely thanked me. Her boy had woken up and seemed happy to go home, bouncing in her arms. He seemed healthier than a couple of minutes ago, too. While watching them go I reprimand myself for giving my number, once again.

The morning rounds went uneventful and I got to go home before lunch. I wasted no time, pretty much running away from the hospital. Gabriel gave me a bad look as I took my bag hurriedly.He sure has an opinion of me by now.

Many bus stops later I was finally in a warm and comfortable bed. Still in scrubs. I hadn’t even showered, but I needed the sleep. The dark circles under my eyes were getting out of control. My skin was breaking out and pale, like I haven’t seen the sunrays in months. I had not. The changing countries were supposed to give me more freedom of going out. I was enjoying more the freedom of a peaceful sleep. Kind of.

I was having the most pleasant dream when my phone began to ring. It was a mix of my physical deprivation and memories from my fuck friend. My dreamy partner didn’t have a face in my dream, only darkness and shadows. I woke up rested, but uncomfortable between my legs. And reached for the damned thing. It was an unknown number. I let it ring, still trying to come back to the enticing dream. But I can't because the phone keeps ringing. I took the call. If someone was calling me so insistently, it had to be important. No one ever called me. I felt my heart sinking, expecting the worse. The number looked from the area, so I forced my breathing to even.

“Hello?” I hoped my voice didn’t sound as quivering as I felt.

“Hi. Am I speaking with doctor Sophie Martinez?”

“Yes,” I didn’t bother correcting the stranger. A woman with a voice more tired than mine.

“You are talking to Jenifer Jareau, Henry’s mother… We went yesterday to the emergency room”

“I remember. Good”. I looked at the time: 6:00 am. Had I slept the whole day? “Good morning Jennifer. Is everything alright with Henry?”

A muffled cry sounded somewhere where she was. She let out a sad sigh, sounding herself on the verge of tears. “That's the thing. He is not vomiting nor any of the things the other doctor talked about. But his fever won’t recede and now his baby brother has one too. I don’t know if I should take him to the emergency room or… I don’t know.”

I breathed, finally getting out of bed. I knew this could happen when I gave my phone. I remember the adorable blonde curls and scared face of an eight year old boy. My annoyance went away. That's why I gave my number, sometimes it was better for the hospital to come to the child. Even if it wasn’t my job and I could get in trouble.

“How old is your baby?” I asked, preparing for a quick shower.

“Nine months”.

“Are you still breastfeeding him?”.

“Yes, most of the time. I travel a lot for work. Lately is often formula, but I try to let some breast milk in bottles.”

“Is he up to date with his vaccination?” I knew Henry was, I had checked his shots the day before. Jenifer said yes. We talked a little more about the boy and it didn’t sound like they needed to go to the emergency room. But I knew she wouldn’t relax merely by my words. I wouldn’t if were my kids.

“Listen, Jenifer… I can go give them a check-up if you want and feel comfortable. I would offer another place, but I don’t have a practice. I don't want to get the boys out in this weather” The windows were frozen. My temperature had fallen many degrees, getting out of bed.

“Yes, thank you. Thanks.”

“What is your address?” She told me, I still didn’t know that part of the city. Most of the city to be honest. “It will take me a bit… You know any close bus stop I can use? Or the metro? ” I asked while looking at my maps app. That app had been my salvation the entire month.

“Don’t bother, my husband can pick you up. What is your address? ” I went quiet. I mean, I wasn’t used to giving my address to strangers, even when their kid was adorable. “Or someplace we can get you…” She continued sensing my discomfort.

I told her to meet me at North Plaza, the closest mall to my apartment. Her husband would get me in half an hour, so I better run to make myself presentable. I kept over thinking about going to a stranger's house under the faucet of my shower. The anxiousness of meeting people pumping inside me. The boiling water was leaving red spots on my skin, but I don’t want to step out yet. I was going to be late. That was a fatal flaw of mine, apparently. Being on time required too much preparation on my part.

I had to skip makeup and drying my hair, putting on some clothes as fast as I could. Then gathering my things in my work bag. It wasa normal blue backpack I had had with me since my first rotation. I smiled at the thought. How young and impressive I was the first time in my base hospital. Those first night shifts were blurry, but I remember a lot of that first semester. I was still getting used to weird sleeping schedules. I had the very same stethoscope my dad had bought for me then. It still worked as new. For my other tools… I had lost count of how many Oximeters I had misplaced. The one I was taking with me was blue and perfect size for kids. I had other smaller, for babies.

I take my wallet as a last thought, hoping to shop later. My dad had bailed on me last night, by text. I just read it after hanging up. Now it was only me buying the furniture. I was sad and a little angry. I don’t want to let it ruin my day, but it looks like it's already ruined. I felt like taking my frustration on the credit card he left for house things and emergencies. It was more like a voice inside my head. Ignoring the voice was easier when I recognized it. Rushed thinking with a malicious tone. Bad choices were taken when I listened to that voice.

William LaMontagne was a D.C. Metropolitan Police Department detective with sandy hair and amazing pale blue eyes. Originally from New Orleans. He moved to be with Jenifer and raise Henry. No wonder their boy was so cute, good genetics and nurturing home. He told me about how healthy his boys usually are. The only big thing was some seizures Henry had presented in the past, but they never got a clear diagnosis. I kept asking questions interested in the domestic life of such lovely looking family. I didn’t like cops that much, but he strikes me as a good person.

He asks about me and my work at the George Washington University Hospital. After answering all my questions, I felt bound to share a little of me. I tell him about the residency to become a pediatrician, that I am not from here and had recently arrived. I avoid staying too much on the topic. But I admit how lonely it feels to come to a new place. His thick accent -I wasn’t close to identifying what accent was-made me a slow talker but I could think more my answers. Still, I was talking a lot. He was so polite and welcoming. I entered the car tense and barely making eye contact. Now I was happily hearing about the craziness of his work and telling him about the craziness of mine.

“Well, at least I got to stay here. You know”. His voice sounds resigned as we stop in front of a gorgeous two floor house in downtown DC. My wife has the worst working hours ever. Has to fly all the time”.

"This must be hard on all of you," I sympathize. I knew what was growing up with a mother who worked a great deal. “On the positive side, time spent together is always special,” I smile. He agreed while getting out of the car. I follow him.

Jenifer opens the door with a crying baby in her arms. She looks even more tired than I had seen her the day before. Will kisses her temple and takes the baby, rocking and soothing him. Jenifer passes her hands through her hair and come to greet me with open arms. I hug her back, somewhat stiffly. It is always awkward with me at first, I take my time to warm up to people.

“You are a savior, Dr. Martinez” Being out of the hospital, I discard the use of my title.

“Sofia is fine, please” I murmur. We were still on the threshold of their house. I still had to enter, but was so uncomfortable all of a sudden. I didn’t know them, I had been so trusting, giving my number and agreeing to come to this house. My breath gets superficial and fast. Why do I always put myself in this position? They could be kidnappers for all I knew. Will’s work and the kids' sickness a ruse. I stop my thoughts. I had checked up Henry and it was no ruse. I tried to calm myself.

“Sophie?” She asked. I corrected and it took her two times enunciating my name to sound as it should. “Would you like to come in, Sofia?” Her voice was unsure. I feel like she knows I am having an inner panic attack. I try to keep still, I don’t want her to know. With her eyes on me, the sensation that she can read me intensifies. I look back at her intently and she stops staring at me, confirming my suspicions. She is analyzing me?

I came here to check a patient. I was going to do my work and leave. The fastest I do my work the fastest I can continue with my day. But first I need to overcome the paranoia. Was I actually in danger? I look around. I was in a good neighborhood. I had learnt self defense. I was here for a work related thing. I was not going to let some thoughts get the better of me.

I breathe slowly, taking one step after another. The first motions were the hardest, but after I got in it felt easier. After a couple of minutes inside my breath regulates. I still look to the door from time to time and check for exit routes. Jenifer had got me some tea. The hot liquid smothers my scared feelings, and lets me finally regain total control of myself. She knew how to soothe me. It scares me how easy she can read me.

I began with more questioning about the boys. Where had they been this last week? Had they been in contact with other sick kids? Had they traveled? I checked both. Henry fever is still high and the boy referred nausea and stomach pain when eating. His bowel movements are increased. Pained faces when I touch his stomach. Michael couldn’t give me that much information. Mainly bawling, irritated by my examination. There's no fever, more like a febricula. His abdomen sounds fine, but his tonsils were crimson and swollen. They both had good oxygen saturation and normal heart and breath rates. Going to the hospital wasn’t needed. One could catch many infections in an emergency room. I knew, half my time sick with a cold.

Will and Jenifer were waiting outside the room. I internally thank them. The last thing I need is being observed while working. At the hospital, it was a thing I had to get used to. Outside the hospital, I feel like a fish outside water when doing anything. Even a routinely thing like a physical examination. My confidence running away faster than I could fake. They look at me expectantly. I wrap the stethoscope around my neck, not knowing what to do with my hands.

“Everything is fine. Henry has a stomach bug, like is colloquially called. Michael a mild cold. I would suggest keeping them apart to avoid the other catching anything else. You should be careful too” A cell phone begins to ring. The same ringtone I had to listen at least six times since I got here. Jenifer looks deeply ashamed and promptly hangs up. “I want to adjust Henry liquids. His fever is dehydrating him. It's better he only have soup and liquid based food for a while. Or juice, water and pedialyte. At least until his stomach gets better or he may throw up what you give him. I will show you some ways to lower his fever without anymore Advil. Fever is good because it means his body is fighting the microorganism. Microorganisms can’t live at high temperatures. But with his record, it could be dangerous to let the fever get out of control.”

We shower Henry. The temperature of the water, mild but not cold. We want to lower his temperature, but creating hypothermia is not the goal. Will stayed in another room to feed Michael. The discomfort of being sick has made him more irritable. If not occupied with the baby bottle, crying. Jennifer's cell phone keeps ringing until I ask her to please answer. The ringing gets on my nerves. The insistent sound transports me to the never-ending nights at the hospital. Until that point, we had been talking about her life before she got to DC. I had told her about me not being from around, but not a lot of details of my life back home. She recounted her time in high school and how hard had been for her to get out of her town. It looked like the memory pained her so I changed the subject.

It was weird for me that she kept talking about so trivial things. Clearly, avoiding work talk. Her reasons she had to have. She asked about my studies, where I came from, and how old was I. She doesn’t have to ask me again for me to share the long roller coaster MED School was. I even share how I failed a subject and had to repeat the whole semester. I talk and talk that she forgets her other questions, asking details of my hospital adventures.

I liked Jenifer even when it was notorious she was older than me. I felt she was someone I wanted to get to know and her family too. An overwhelming need to impress her took over me. I ignored it. I was not acting up. This was a once time thing and I needed to center myself. Will had put music at some point and I discovered myself moving along the rhythm. Now we were in the kitchen, I am instructing them how to prepare the oral rehydration salts I brought with me.

Jenifer had to run to work. It looked like she couldn’t avoid it anymore. Something urgent, she said, but wasn’t going to take too much time. I began my goodbyes not wanting to overstay my welcome. She almost begs me to stay. She would finish as fast as she could and came back to have lunch with us. I told her I needed to go furniture shopping but she didn’t relent. She was going to take me shopping later or another day. I was pale, I needed food. And the least she could do was feed me. Her words. I declined once more, but the idea of eating with people was completely attractive. I didn’t want to go shopping alone, either.

Some brunette guy driving an SUV picked her up soon after. I saw the massive car from the window in the living room. Henry was asleep upstairs, tired, but fresh. His fever had finally relented. I was rocking baby Michael, a Cheshire Cat smile on my lips. I love kids. Will was in the kitchen preparing some snacks while we waited for his wife. How weird was for me to feel comfortable on this strangers’ sofa with their baby in my arms. The anxiety and terror of being alone with them had vanished over the afternoon. Now dreading the moment I had to say goodbye.

Will and I talked some more. He joked about introducing me to his brother -about my age, he said- the next time he came to visit. I said nothing, but smiled at the implication. I was going to see them again.

It was getting dark when Jenifer finally came back. This time her colleague accompanied her inside to greet us. He was a black attractive man with big muscles and a cocky grin. Derek Morgan had introduced himself to me. He didn’t stay much and if he was surprised by me, a stranger in his friend's house, he didn’t say anything.

“When do you have time?”. The question took me by surprise. I was in Jenifer’s car -another SUV- looking absent-minded through the window. We had eaten so much I was getting sleepy. I turned to look at her.

“Why?”

“To go shopping. Potentially some girls night out after that”.

“You don’t have to, Jenifer”.

“It's not like it is an obligation. I want to Sofia. I like you”.

I laugh uncomfortably “Really? Even when I almost freaked out twice before entering your home?”.

She laughs too, more authentic. I knew she had noticed. “I don’t care about that. It was a strange place and you just got here. I feel better knowing that you have common sense”.

“You are not the only mother I gave my number, I guess I lack some common sense. But I am happy I meet you and your family” I said genuinely. I had spent the past month feeling so lonely. Letting me be devoured by the solitude. Today was all noise, laughs, and baby's cries. It felt so homey.

She squeezed my arm. My eyes were watery. I could feel like crying for the most random things. Sometimes just something I thought. I hope she doesn’t notice, but I can’t fool myself. She seems to notice everything. We had arrived to my house. She refused to let me go alone, parking in front. Some guy was snooping around and before I could say anything Jenifer had gotten out to confront him.

“FBI”. She took a badge from inside her jacket. I internalized my surprise. I hadn’t known, I hadn’t asked either. It wasn’t a big deal, simply took me by surprise. The SUVs were federal cars then. I thought it was so weird for her to drive one, not exactly the car I would pick for a suburban mom. I didn’t know how to drive. Possibly I didn’t know if it was a great car. “Who are you? What are you doing here?”. Her voice was firm if a little aggressive. I kept behind her, merely watching.

The guy ended up being a delivery man. With an arrangement of white lilies he had been paid to give me, personally. No matter the time, so he was waiting for me. He didn’t know who was it from. How strange. There was no one I could think that would send me flowers. No one ever did, besides my father on special occasions. Jenifer asked for his name and other details, especially about the flower shop. Then send him off.

I opened the door, now highly obsessed with who could have sent them. I had nothing. No names, no ideas. I wasn’t feeling so relaxed now. I didn’t invite her in, there were two sick boys and a handsome husband waiting for her. After assuring her I would be okay, she agreed to go. Promising to look up the flower shop. I thanked her and saw her leave. Closing the door with all the locks the moment I was alone.

My apartment was on the second floor, but the entry was on the first. The small entrance hall ended at the stairs. I climbed them quickly and go to my room. One tiny piece of paper falls from the bouquet. I bend over to pick it up. My hands trembling while I read. My head feels incredibly light.

“Have you missed me?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi. This is my first fanfic (at least the first I do write). English is not my first language so you may find some (or a lot) of mistakes. Feel free to correct me, I want to get better at writing in English.


	3. I MAKE FRIENDS AND PISS OFF STALKERS

If the last month had been hard, this one was wrecking me. Most of the time I looked like garbage. And felt like it. I wasn’t feeling my best these days but had gotten up, dressed, and gone to work anyways. This month sucked but there had been some good things too.

Joey had found another job with better hours. We had seen each other twice since I got here but now the plan was to go out more. Get to know the city by bicycle together as we did back home -Mental note to buy a bicycle-. The possibility of seeing Joey more often already improved my mood. I was finally going to meet his boyfriend, too. 

I hadn’t expected to hear from Jenifer again. She could look up my life and decide to keep me as far as possible. Or just forget about the weird doctor she had to meet once in a time of need. I was wrong. I hadn’t heard from her for a week and a half and decided to let her go. I didn’t want to mourn a friend I really hadn’t had. I got attached that easy. Then she called. Jenifer had explained to me her job took her to around the country and just now has she had time to talk. She didn’t know if I was busy and didn’t want to bother me more. I warmed inside. I was busy but I absolutely wanted her to bother me.

Her colleague, Penelope I think, had checked up the flower shop. Everything seemed legal. I had wanted to forget about it, even if now I was checking twice my door locks. My paranoia had finally had a reason to act up with the creepy note. “Have you missed me?”. I didn’t tell Jenifer about it. Her job was serious and I had convinced myself the note was a prank. Well, I kept saying so but I still was super aware of my surroundings whenever I left my house. No more bouquets had come. Jenifer had little to no control of when she would be in the city to make long term plans. We texted regularly after that. Most of it cat memes I sent and she asking me if everything was okay or any more bouquets had arrived. Today she had called again. She was going out tonight and wanted me to come too. I thanked the heavens because I could, my next shift wasn’t until the weekend. When she would take me furniture shopping if I wasn’t too tired. I still had to get up early tomorrow but it was no different from my medical student years. 

It was almost 9 pm when I got to the address Jenifer had texted me. She had offered someone picking me up but I was not sure I could stick to a time. Thankfully Dr. Suarez had let us go early, minus the two residents and intern that had tonight shift. I really hoped I didn’t look overdressed. This was my first real night out and I was eager to use a skirt. I had always loved using them even when they didn’t completely fit my casual style. I use to sit a lot in Indian style and am not the most careful person so they really weren’t an option most of the time. But when I used skirts I felt stylish and neat. With my wrinkled pajama uniforms and mountain of hoodies and joggers, neat wasn’t a word usually associated with me. I was rather messy, to be honest.

I found Jenifer with a blonde woman and the guy from the last time, Derek Morgan. I stopped to watch them from afar, suddenly not sure I was ready to spend the night with them. They were laughing and seemed fun. The idea of not fitting overwhelmed me. I almost called Jenifer to cancel, not wanting to spoil their party, but the blond woman saw me and alerted the other two. I stepped towards them slowly, fidgeting my hands behind my back. For the looks of Morgan and Jenifer, they noticed my hesitation. The other woman was too excited to notice. She grabbed my arm and got me in a crushing hug. I smiled and hugged her back. I already liked her, the way she expressed herself so freely made me automatically more comfortable. She was wearing a skirt too, a flamboyant and sparkling one. I tried relaxing in her arms.

“I am Penelope Garcia. It is so nice to finally meet you, Sofia”

“Hi, Penelope. It great to meet you too, I’ve heard so much about you” I hadn’t really heard a lot but I remembered a couple of times Jen had mentioned her. They seemed close.

“So have I. JJ told us how sweet you were with my poor baby Henry” I blushed. I would be the personal doctor of the LaMontagne boys if they needed me, they were the sweetest.

Penelope moved, leaving me the place between her and Jenifer. She hugged me too. “You already know Morgan”

Morgan made a gesture with his head as greeting. Penelope took her arm “My chocolate thunder and I will get drinks, what do you want?”

I wondered if I wanted to drink. I hadn’t drink in almost a year and wasn’t sure how good I would tolerate my alcohol. Oh, but I really wanted a cocktail. Would the type of alcohol here be so different? I had begun drinking aguardiente in my teens, whatever they served wouldn’t kill me.

“We won’t send you alone if it's what worries you, Sofia” I smiled at Jenifer. She was so soft and considerate. How would I not want her as a friend?

“Thank you,” I said squeezing the hand she had put over my arm. “I would love a mojito. It is a thing here?”

“Yes!” Garcia exclaimed excitedly moving her arms. Was she this bubbly or has she already began drinking? “I already like you. I want one too. Come, come”

“I am coming baby girl” Morgan answered laughing at her excitement. Where they a couple?

The night had passed with mojitos, tequilas, and beer. Surprisingly Jenifer was the one that liked beer the most. With time I had happily began to share a little of me with the group and ask some things in return. I knew now where they all had been born, what university had attended, and where they were. I actually had to ask a lot of where. 

When Penelope told me about her abilities, my mind shifted it's course. I had self learnt some code as a teen, it was awesome. I had almost studied something with computers. I told her that and began attacking her with questions of all the things she could do and how she did them. She was happily explaining it all to me. Morgan and Jenifer were talking with each other, laughing from time to time at us. Our voices could get a bit too loud with excitement. Morgan and Penelope left for the dance floor then. Jenifer was tired and I wanted to talk to her for a while, so we stayed. We shared stories and laughed at everything, both of us clearly tipsy. I got an update of the boys too. We had already talked about them after her first call.I had texted her to know if they were back to normal and how long had the symptoms lasted.

When the dancing couple came back, Jenifer announced it was time to leave. I was okay with that, already inebriated. I would love if I got any time left to sleep. Jenifer would take Penelope. Morgan would accompany me, our apartments in the same side of the city. He surprised me asking to walk. I accepted gladly, I loved to walk. I thanked my decision of coming in flats. We parted in pleasant conversation.

“Have you any boyfriend, pretty girl?”

I tensed. Until now, this walk had been great. Morgan was a great conversationalist and had that cocky and easy-going personality that didn’t matter what I said, I knew he wasn’t judging me. I could just talk whatever I wanted without thinking about his opinion of me. I really wanted to be friends with him. He seemed like a great guy, I felt he wouldn’t take it wrong. Me rejecting him. He seemed much more than I can’t take. For a friend his vibrant personality was great. I couldn’t explain… He wouldn’t want to date or go out, whatever, with me either. Not romantically. I was even shyer, I felt insecure about everything and never could really enjoy myself. A one-time thing… well, maybe. But he was still too confident and handsome in an obvious way. I needed to stop. He hadn’t even actually ask me out. Was I taking too much time to answer?

“Relax. I am not making a move on you” I guess yes. Jenifer and he had read me like a book since the beginning. “I was just curious. You are pretty, kid.” Ha, there it was. It was my age. Well, I hope it isn’t that much of a problem with this and my young friendship with Jenifer.

“I am not… I don’t…” I really didn’t know how to explain. I had technically met him just today. Was I spilling my guts? I was pretty tipsy, so I guess I was. “I really never had a boyfriend, you know? I “had” one finishing high school” I made quotation marks on had “But it didn’t last a week, it was mostly platonic. He was a friend. I seem to have a predisposition to it, actually. But it destroyed that friendship, and some other more than friends relations I've had. I just, can’t seem to find  _ that _ person.” I looked at the stars. Was there somewhere  _ that _ person for me? “I am not looking, too. If I am being honest, and I am drunk and you know what they say…” I laughed. So bad joke, was it even a joke? “I am happy alone and won’t push me toward something I am not ready if I am not. I can’t really enjoy myself on dates and even I like to meet new people, I hardly ever am looking to find someone romantically” I looked at him, probably wanting to put something in my mouth to make me shut. I really could talk sometimes. Surprisingly so, he seemed interested. He had that analyzing look that made me feel like he read my life within my words. 

He didn’t say anything so I continued. “It's not like I don’t like people. Sometimes I have this massive crushes, you know? But I like it from afar. Love, I mean. It feels like it can consume someone. There are so many feelings consuming me. I am always all over the place or in my cocoon. It's hard to find someone to put with that.” I had given away too much. I surely was scaring him away.

“We all have had our problems with compromising. Serious relationships are a pain in the ass.” He smiled. It seemed he was enjoying some of this pain. Could it be Penelope? They seemed great together but they had acted just friendly. Friends very comfortable with each other. I knew those friendships. “I can teach you some tricks when you are ready. You will be unstoppable” He was mocking me. He wasn’t against seeing me again, either. 

“I would like that. Go out and learn the minutiae of human interaction. I'll take your word on that.” How funny, I was asking to go out with him again and just moments ago I was panicking about him asking me. He laughed.

“You are much more than you look” I blushed. I knew what he meant. It was like I could only project a little part of who I was most of the time. Then if I met someone I was at ease with, my quirks begin to spill from me “I like this Sofia, I hope she doesn’t go away after the alcohol passes”

“Give it a little time Agent Morgan, and you would ask for the shy version. I can’t seem to shut up. Like now” I laughed. Something happened when you were not sober… Being drunk. I laughed again and Morgan saw me funny. “I am talking to myself, agent. That happens some… You are law enforcement” I gasped like I just now realized. “Isn’t illegal to be drunk in public? I am not breaking any laws? I have never been so sloppy with cops” Lower inhibitions, that’s it. In my case zero control over my talking filter. Probably my frontal lobe. 

Morgan laughed so loud I pushed him making him fall off the platform. There was a car close, because its lights irritated terribly my sight. I took his arm and pulled him back, panicky. No frontal lobe, it seems. I scolded myself, what’s wrong with me? I could have caused an accident, and wouldn’t be any help in my state. I hated crashing accidents the most, they were always like a run against time and so many wounds, blood, and exposed flesh. 

I wanted to throw up now. I could have killed him, or at least seriously injured him. I would cost Jenifer a friend. I saw Penelope’s eyes full of tears. That lovely girl, she had been literally the greatest person I had ever meet. I had been so at ease because she didn’t occult her personality and was so open, so refreshing. I felt opening the same to her, and that group we had formed tonight. I liked them all. I didn’t want to lose Morgan, either.

“It's okay. I am okay” Morgan assured me, his hands on my elbows. I had stopped to breathe, the dizziness hit me when we resumed walking. I accepted the arm he offered, walking the remaining blocks with arms hooked.

“Morgan, can I ask you something?”

“Of course. But you can call me Derek, Sofia”

“I just like Morgan more, Derek” I made a pout at him. He shook his head.

“Ask me”

“Do you know what I am thinking… sometimes? It's crazy right?” My voice was low now. I felt silly saying it, but I needed to ask. The thought of him knowing my mind scared the shit out of me. Not even I fully knew me.

“Haven't JJ told you what we do?”

“Jenifer? I know she is an FBI agent. Like you. I guess you stop criminals…”

“We are profilers. Our unit is called the behavioral analysis unit. We study and predict people behavior”

“You read people for a living?” I asked uncomfortably. Jenifer had too. How much had they read from me? “You have been doing it to me all night” I pulled my arm, feeling a little pissed.

“Yes. I am sorry. I will stop, promise. Sometimes I do it without thinking about it” He stopped, looking directly at me. “Don’t be mad. You are confusing sometimes. And someone that really looks notices your overthinking”

I had to agree. I couldn’t stop myself from reading a person symptoms, I sometimes read people too. It wasn’t exactly like what he could do, but I guess I could understand him. I hooked our arms again and we continued in silence until we finally got to my apartment. He didn’t leave without asking if any more flowers had been sent first. They are a team, I told myself. And I can’t be mad with them for caring. I told him the truth, no more flowers had arrived. I told him what I wanted to believe: it was a prank, it wouldn’t happen again. 

The next day, coming back from work, another bouquet was waiting for me. This time yellow roses. 

“Good girls don’t go out so late”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I could not stop myself. I finished it and now I am uploading it. Our pretty boy is going to appear soon <3


End file.
